Singing for the Mob
by newsiesgirllaces
Summary: Ottilie is used to moving with her alcoholic father. She also has no choice using her voice to bring in the income with her father using her to continue to feed his gambling and drinking addictions. However, Gotham proves to be a very different city compared to the others. And after a string of events, Ottilie finds that there just might be a way to turn her life around. (mob au)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! It's been forever since I uploaded, and I don't know much often I will. However, this story was just a fun thing I had on the back burner for a while. I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 1

Another city, more of Dad's gambling, and more of people being pissed off at him. This time around, the moment Dad's squeaky car rolled off the highway, I instantly disliked it more than the other cities we had ran away to. Filth seemed to be oozing from the skyscrapers and the smog in the sky was disgustingly visible.

"Could we go somewhere green for once?" I grumbled.

"Green places don't give my wallet green," Dad responded, blowing smoke into my face after a long inhale from his cigarette. He must have felt clever for the weak pun. "Lucky for you though, Gotham is gonna be different. I'm gonna have all the green in the world."

Like your success in Philly, Boston, New York, Phoenix, Seattle and so on? Plus, you're beating this green meaning money thing like a dead horse. I thought to myself but wouldn't dare actually say anything. Dad was in the throws of a happy fantasy, and I had scars to prove why he shouldn't be angered when day dreaming.

When growing up I used to tell myself that mom couldn't possibly fall in love with my Dad and that he wasn't actually my father. I looked nothing like him. He had whispy blond hair, pale skin and an angular face. I looked like my mom, dark skin, thick curly hair, and rounded features.

Unfortunately, no matter how much I wished that I wasn't related to him, it didn't matter. He controlled my life, mom said he was my dad and he referred to himself as my dad, so it was pointless to fight it.

The car pulled into an empty space in front of a rundown brick building.

"Say hello to our new home, Tills."

The building was like every other place dad and I stayed at, but dad seemed to be in a good mood about it. No need to make a snide remark no matter how much I wanted to.

The little apartment was just as appealing on the inside as it was on the outside. Worn down, cockroaches crawling around, the smell of mold, and some blood and piss stains in various places.

Luckily there were two bedrooms so at least I wasn't confined to the couch.

Wordlessly, I carried my duffle bag into the smaller of the two bedrooms and sat onto the mattress. I ran my finger along the underside curve of the bed and was delighted that my finger came back with no signs of bed bugs.

I got to work unpacking, pulling out some clothes and hanging them up in the doorless closet. Then came the few books I owned, then my notebook, my two pairs of shoes, my watercolor folder, and lastly the photograph of my mom and I.

"Tills," Dad was looming in the doorway, "I set up a gig for you that starts at 7. Don't be late." He threw me a piece of paper with the directions to the location and made his way back to his own room.

I was miffed that this came so out of nowhere. I needed to warm up my voice and get ready when all I wanted to do was rest after the long car ride. However, Dad had given me a choice. Either I was to sing at gigs he set up or he was going to pimp me out to men.

Regardless I was completely under his thumb. Whoever was paying for my performance often was made sure to keep an eye on me and made sure that they contacted my manager/Dad when I arrived and when I left. There was no chance of being able to successfully run away. I tried time and time again which only resulted in beatings and a threat to start pimping me to men.

I quickly slipped on black a dress, put on some makeup and did up my hair the best that I could. I then started doing some vocal exercises, feeling the phlegm in my throat starting to clear.

I was looking forward to at least getting some space from Dad and hopefully being tipped while singing that I could be able to keep. Dad was the one who got all the money which fueled his gambling which in turn meant he needed more money to pay off his debts, which made it my fault when we ended up moving because I wasn't providing enough.

Letting out a long frustrated sigh, I tried pushing away the negative thoughts. I looked at the map and decided to get an early start on getting to the location. I needed to familiarize myself with the crummy city anyway.

Dad didn't say anything as I left. He knew that I wouldn't try running away again. Sometimes it was tempting just to give it another go, but my fingers would start to tingle and I could faintly taste blood in my mouth, making me drop the idea.

I looked down at the paper map and around at the nearest street sign. The city was pretty grimy, my eyes glancing at each building, each broken beer bottle, each discarded needle.

I wonder what it would be like living in the country. Maybe surrounded by trees. Or a farm. Cow manure is sure to smell better than human feces, stinking garbage, and piss.

I was getting unwanted looks from a handful of men as I walked down the street and I wished that I threw on a jacket to cover up my black dress despite how warm it was. I heard a whistle and a guy shout how he wanted to grab my ass.

Just keep walking. Don't look at anyone. Just keep moving forward. I finally reached where I would be performing, a surprisingly up scale looking club called the Iceberg Lounge.

I walked up to the door where a bouncer was already standing despite it being early.

"Hello, I'm Ottilie Summer. I was scheduled to sing here tonight but I think I'm a bit early." The bouncer nodded, flashing me a surprisingly kind smile for his large intimidating appearance.

"Bossman said to be on the lookout for you and to call your manager once you arrived. Walk right in. The club isn't open yet, so you can set up the stage however you like."

"Thank you," I smiled as he opened the door for me and I walked in. The place was just as fancy looking on the inside, and it baffled my mind that Dad was able to somehow book me at the place.

The iceberg theme was overt, with ice sculptures decorating the lounge and an artic feel. I then noticed the stage area. A microphone was already set up along with a piano, which was all I needed.

Walking onto the stage, I ran my fingers over the piano, testing to make sure that it was in key. I smiled as each plink rang out in tune and then went to the microphone. I adjusted it to match my shorter height, then started speaking into it.

"Testing, testing. Hello." I went through a few scales and I was thrown off at how surprisingly live the microphone was. I could tell that the mic was much more expensive than others that I had sung into. I was used to having to strain to be heard, but this was a welcomed change. This just meant that I would have to be careful how loud of a breath I would take.

"Ah, you must be Ms. Summer." Looking up, I saw a plump man with a large nose and a cane waddled towards me. "I am Oswald Cobblepot, the owner of this fine establishment." The man was well dressed in a tuxedo and had what looked to be two body guards on either side of him.

I quickly walked down from the stage the close the distance between us.

"Mr. Cobblepot, it is wonderful to meet you," I smiled as I stuck out my hand and he seemed pleased by this, taking my hand to shake.

"I have seen several videos of your performances and was thrilled when your manager contacted me. Your voice is magnificent."

"Thank you, Mr. Cobblepot. Your lounge is beautiful. I've never performed in such a lovely venue." I wasn't used to talking so formally, but I could tell that this was a man who clearly was more upscale than most bars I had performed for and had a more uppity air about him. The more I stroked his ego, the more likely he would ask me to perform for his lounge again.

"You are too kind Ms. Summer. Is the stage and microphone to your liking?"

"Oh, yes. It will be perfect."

"Would you like some water? You are here earlier than expected, have you eaten yet?" I could feel my stomach about to growl but I tried to squelch it. I didn't want to take food without building up at least a more friendly relationship with Mr. Cobblepot, but water was safe.

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry. However, could I have some water? And possibly a bottle for onstage in-between songs?"

"Yes of course." He snapped a finger and one of his men quickly disappeared to grab me some water. Yeah, this guy not only had money, but he had power.

Shit if this guy is a mob boss, Dad better not be gambling anywhere he owns. If Dad gets in bad with this guy then my chances of being able to sing here would vanish.

"I have already paid your manager. He also had me promise to call him when you are finished, however, I want you to feel free to stay around even after you finish singing. So, when you want to leave just let me know and I'll call your manager." Mr. Cobblepot had a look in his eyes that seemed to know that my "manager" was being incredibly controlling. However, it was nice to know that he was giving me some freedom to have some time to myself before having to head back.

"Thank you, Mr. Cobblepot."

His remaining bodyguard bent down and whispered something into Cobblepot's ear. He frowned then let out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry my dear, it seems I have to leave. But I am looking forward to your performance. Edmund should be back with your waters soon." With that, he swiftly walked off to take care of his own matters.

Just as he had said, the man had returned carrying two water bottles along with what looked to be an apple.

He handed over the items to me and I looked at the apple curiously.

"You looked hungry," He stated, and I smiled.

"Thank you, Edmund." That got a small smile out of the stoic looking man, and he walked off.

I quickly ate the apple, relishing in the sweet taste and how it settled my stomach and then started to sip at the water. My mind went over the repertoire I had prepared for the evening. Slow and jazzy. Not my favorite but not too bad nonetheless.

Soon enough, the doors were open, and it was time for me to set the mood. I'd be playing the piano for the first hour, switching over to some vocals later.

The Iceberg lounge was calming. Glasses clanked, there were soft murmurs of people talking and my fingers sliding over the piano keys.

When I switched over to singing, I felt my mind become completely immersed into the music. There was no longer the fear of my Dad. There wasn't the pain of missing my mother. It was just me, my voice, and the lyrics.

And just as it felt like it began, it ended. Once I had completed my repertoire, I was escorted off the stage by Edmund who then led me to the bar area.

"Mr. Cobblepot was able to see some of your performance and was very pleased. He said that you are free to a drink and to come to me when you would like to leave, and I will contact your manager." Edmund spoke surprisingly soft for a body guard or bouncer or whatever he was, but his low voice helped to keep me at ease. There was a chance that Dad would get paranoid for not getting a call quickly, however I drew in a deep breath and slowly breathed out, reminding myself that everything would be fine.

Stay for at least a drink. You know you need some sort of calories.

"Thank you, Edmund. Any recommendations for the drinks?"

"Unfortunately, I don't drink, so I wouldn't know. But I'm sure anything is good." Edmund abruptly stiffened, placing his hand to his ear.

"I am sorry, but I have to go. I'll be back soon. Please enjoy yourself." With that, he quickly made his way through the lounge towards the backdoor.

And I was just getting used to talking to Edmund too. I thought with a small frown but then turned to the bar tender.

"Would you recommend any drinks?"

"The Pink Penguin is a popular one," responded the Bar tender and I grinned.

"Sounds fantastic."

The drink was prepared swiftly and once the liquid graced my lips, I let out a content sigh. It was tangy and sweet. It was questionable whether there was even alcohol in there. Still, it was nice to be able to relax away from Dad.

It didn't take long to finish the drink, but I could feel my body starting to relax a bit more due to the alcohol.

Guess that fruity drink did have some harder stuff in it.

"You're a new face." Looking up, I laid eyes on a man approaching. He was dressed in a nice suit and tie, which I knew was mandatory for the club, but it oozed wealth. This wasn't some hand me down suit from his father. This suit was clearly tailored for him and cost hundreds of dollars.

I flashed him a smile, but I knew that I had to be on my guard as well. In my experience, rich men felt entitled to everything they wanted. I had gotten my ass grabbed too many times to come to that conclusion.

"It's my first time here," I said politely.

"You don't say. Well, you have good taste," he grinned. "May I buy you a drink?"

"Yes, thank you." Stay polite. Plus, another free drink is always good.

"Not a problem. What would you like?"

"I'm good with anything."

"Anything?" the man questioned with a smirk. I didn't know if he was trying to make some sort of double-entendre by the way he was smirking, but I replied,

"Anything."

"Well alright then," he smiled and looked over at the bar tender. "Pierre, two of my usuals."

"Coming up, Jay." The bartender grinned.

I supposed that the man really was a regular with how friendly he and the bartender seemed.

"So, what are you doing here tonight? Figured it was worth a check out due to the yelp reviews?" he was curious, and I knew he was asking due to my attire not being nearly as expensive as my surroundings. Most likely he was wondering how I even afforded to get in.

"I sang here tonight and just finished up. You didn't hear me?"

"I'm afraid not, I just came in." the man smiled as the drinks were placed in front of him. Two tumblers of auburn liquid.

"Thanks," he said to the bartender, then handed me a glass.

"Cheers to your singing then."

"Cheers." I smiled as we gently clanked the glasses together and took a sip. He was watching me, smirking all the while as I drank from the tumbler. The moment the liquid hit my tongue I knew why.

It was whisky. Sure, it was whisky with a hint of cinnamon and apple, but it still was incredibly strong whisky. Little did he know, performing at many dive bars had prepared me for the sudden taste of whisky.

I swallowed the sip I took and said,

"You struck me more as a champagne guy than a whisky guy."

I then took another sip. It was a really good drink.

"I'm surprised that you like it. Most people I meet can't handle hard whisky."

What people are you hanging around then?

"Whisky is a reliable drink to drown in. Wine gets too sweet after a while and vodka I can only take so much of."

"I'm taking it that you don't drink champagne much."

"Not really. I can't afford it most of the time." The man raised an eyebrow at my statement.

"Singing in the Iceberg lounge and you can't afford champagne?"

Can we stop asking about my lack of money? That would be great.

"Yeah, my manager is a dick," I grumbled.

"Ah, I see. Controls your finances?"

If by control you mean, takes it all.

"Yeah."

"Sounds rough. But hey, I hear they pay a lot here so the more gigs you do maybe you'll be allotted more money."

Ha! Like that'll happen.

I raised the whisky glass.

"Here's to hoping." I smirked then took a swallow and the man followed suit.

"You got a name?"

"Jason. Just Jason." He smiled. "And you?"

"Ottilie Summer."

"Wow. Don't hear a beautiful name like that every day." He flashed me a smile and I wanted to laugh at his flirting. However, I would admit that it was endearing.

"You can thank my mom for that." I then chuckled a bit. "It's fun to watch the people at Starbucks try to spell it correctly."

"I bet."

"So, Jason Just Jason, what brings you here so often?"

"Mostly the good drinks. Sometimes business."

"Business, huh. What kind of business?"

Jason smirked, a mischievous air surrounding him.

"Now Ms. Summer, I can't give away all of my secrets. I'd have no allure then."

"Yeah, it's the shroud of mystery that gives you your allure," I said sarcastically. The guy had to know that he looked like he was chiseled by Michelangelo. He didn't need much else to lure women in.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he questioned playfully.

I wasn't good at flirting. Witty banter sometimes I was good at depending on the topic, but I was far from a smooth talker. Being direct was how I handled most situations, and this was no different.

"You look like a male model, you think mystery is the only thing attractive about you?"

Jason seemed surprised by my statement and he chuckled.

"That's fair, but it is what keeps people hooked."

"Mhm." I hummed, letting some sarcasm bleed into it.

"For thinking that I look like a male model, you seem to be resisting my charms." Jason didn't seem put off but more curious.

"What can I say, I don't know you well enough to find you attractive."

"I see, so mystery doesn't work for you."

"Yeah, it kind of does the opposite."

"Well then, what would you like to know, Ms. Summer?" I hadn't anticipated him asking that. I thought for a second, then asked,

"What's your favorite song?" Jason's eyebrows knit together, his face contorting into something almost resembling pain.

"How could you ask me that? There are so many good ones."

"Okay, well, if you could listen to any song right now, what would it be?" Jason was pensive for a moment.

"What song am I in the mood for?" he mused to himself. "Jailhouse Rock, Elvis."

"Wait, really? Elvis?" That was one of the last people I would have thought he would want to hear.

"Yeah, it's an oldie but a goodie and I wouldn't mind listening to it right now," Jason said with a small shrug.

"That's fair. You didn't strike me as an Elvis guy."

"Really? You know I've had people say that I look a bit like him." I squinted my eyes at him noting the black hair and light eyes. However, other than that I didn't see much of a resemblance.

"I guess I can see it," I fibbed.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"What song could you listen to right now."

I paused a moment, chewing at my bottom lip.

"Hmm… well…"

"Jason?" Out of the side of my vision I could see Edmund returning. Jason's eyes flashed from me to Edmund, and Jason's flirtatious smile didn't falter from his face.

"Hey Eddie."

"Jason, what are you doing here?" Edmund questioned, a tinge of panic in his voice.

"What? I can't stay at my favorite lounge?"

"Jason if Cobblepott sees you-"

"Yeah yeah yeah." Jason rolled his eyes as he stood to his feet. He then looked to me. "Have to leave, but it was nice meeting you, Ottilie. I hope we meet again." Before I could respond, he was weaving his way in and out of the crowd towards the door.

"You know him?" I questioned, looking over at Edmund. He frowned.

"Yeah I know him. That your first time meeting him?"

"Yeah. He's certainly a flirt."

"You can say that again." Edmund let out a long sigh. "Hey, Ms. Summer, if I were you, I'd stay away from him. Jason only brings trouble with him wherever he goes."

"Thanks for the heads up. I certainly don't need a lot of trouble." Jason had disappeared from the building in an instant. I wonder what the beef is between him and Mr. Cobblepot.

"If you're ready, I can take you home now," Edmund said, and I looked up at the man.

"Thank you, Edmund."


	2. Chapter 2

**Many thanks to TheShadowsNightmare for letting me know that my chapters were saving strangely! Hopefully there won't be any more technical difficulties. **

Chapter 2

It was nice riding in the car with Edmund. I preferred it over walking back home from the Ice Burge Lounge.

Something told me that Gotham wasn't a place you wanted to walk around much at night.

Edmund drove an extremely nice BMW, and even though I figured that it was probably not his but the company's, I was still jealous that he was able to drive such a beautiful car.

"I'm sorry if Jason gave you a hard time," Edmund said, and I shook my head.

"He wasn't giving me a hard time. He was just really nosey if anything. I take it that he's a regular there?"

Edmund tilted his head side to side as if he was debating if he should say something.

"Well, let's just say that he is a regular when he really shouldn't be. For reasons I can't really get into, Mr. Cobblepot dislikes him."

"Ah, I gotcha," I nodded. I was curious why Mr. Cobblepot didn't like Jason, but I figured if Edmund was keeping quiet about it, it must be something bad.

"Is this your place?" Edmund questioned, pulling up in front of my father's apartment.

"Yeah, this is me. Thank you again for driving me back," I said, giving him a smile as I got out of the car.

"Don't sweat it. I hope you come back to the Iceberg lounge soon," he grinned, and with that, he drove off into the night.

"You made me a lot of money, Lottie. I'm setting up another gig for you at the same place for Saturday. Tomorrow I set up a gig for you at a bar."

"What time?"

"Why? You got places to be?"

"No, I just want to be able to warm up well enough beforehand." Dad only grunted in response then chugged at his beer.

"6:30." He then handed me a piece of paper with an address written in his sloppy handwriting.

"Alright." I walked into my sure to be temporary room and locked the door. Dad was getting drunk tonight. I most definitely wanted the door between us.

I examined my dress. Hopefully the place wouldn't be so upscale like the iceberg lounge was. I did want my dress to look somewhat acceptable.

_I really need to check out the thrift stores around here. Maybe they have some cheap upscale dresses. _

I then looked over some music, making sure I kept each song memorized. I wish I knew what genre the bar wanted.

Something more like rock? More coffee shop? I certainly doubted that they wanted show tunes.

I brushed up on some of the Beetles. Most people liked the Beetles. I then went through what I knew of some Elvis songs and the Four Seasons.

I froze, noticing the sun rising. I didn't realize how much I was focusing on the music.

_Why did I even start on the Oldies again? Shit I should have looked over more Billy Joel and Nat King Cole. _

I figured I'd go over more music later. For the time being, I needed sleep.

Laying down in the creaky old bed, closing my eyes, I tried to relax.

_What song do I want to listen to right now?_ I thought to myself.

A guitar in my mind started to strum as _Lo Que Construimos _by Natalia Lafourcade started.

The woman's voice in my mind lulled me into sleep.

Unfortunately, my bliss didn't last for long. I woke up to angry thuds on my door.

"You little shit gonna sleep the day away?"

"No," I grumbled. "What time is it?"

"It's time for you to get up before I beat your ass."

I rolled out of bed, checking the time on my rinky dink phone.

2:05pm.

_Shit. I really did sleep the day away. _

"I'm up, just going over some music," I said, walking over to the door and opening it.

"Like hell you were," Dad grumbled, looking disheveled and having the same clothes as he had on the day before. Good chances were that he just got back home after some sort of crazy night and morning.

However, he did seem to be in better spirits seeing that I was awake.

"Don't forget that you have another gig today."

"I know." I said, brushing past him to eat whatever food we had in our makeshift kitchen. A bottle of orange juice and a granola bar is all that I could really find. My stomach grumbled for more, but I just hoped that I would get enough tips at the bar to pay for some more food.

Dad made his way to the couch and in a few seconds, was snoring.

It was moments like these where my mind would start to wonder. Could I run away? Could I grab a pillow and smother him? Could I get away with it?

_No. _I thought sullenly. _The risk isn't worth it. Just keep hoping that one day he'll drown in his own vomit. _

I went back into my room, changing into the dress from yesterday.

I then went over some more music until I figured that I should start heading over to the bar. I'd get there early again, but I still needed to familiarize myself with the streets.

Dad was still asleep when I left. He'd surely wake up to the phone call that I arrived at the venue.

The streets of Gotham continued to disgust me. I heard the cat calls and whistles. I was clearly walking in a not so great neighborhood. Then again, with the reputation that Gotham had, there didn't seem to be any necessarily good neighborhoods.

I made it to the bar, this one luckily looking like bars that I was used to. Nothing too fancy and upscale.

I stepped inside to see a small empty stage and a few patrons having drinks. Walking over to the bar, I saw that behind it was a beautiful woman with blonde hair.

"Excuse me, I'm Ottilie Summer. I'm here for the singing gig." The blonde woman grinned ear to ear.

"So you're the one Selina hired for tonight. Take a seat and relax. Would you like something to eat? It's on the house."

"Yes please," I said, perhaps too quickly. I felt my mouth salivating at the thought of actual food.

"What would you like? I'm taking it nothing with cream. Hmmm… we make some good wings."

"Wings sound fantastic." It was nice that she wouldn't give me something to creamy that would mess with my throat.

"Do you sing?" I inquired.

"Yes, but the doctor told me to take it easy for a while. That's why Selina called you in. She should be here to greet you soon."

"Thank you. What kind of music do people like when they come in here?" I figured it was good to know, especially since she was familiar with the music scene in the bar.

"Jazz and some old familiars. But I'd stick to jazz tonight. Selina's lover's apparently dropping in, and I think she'd like to keep the mood romantic. Besides, the people who come here know not to make a fuss. You'll be fine even if they don't like the music."

"Thank you," I smiled, and she went to the back to prepare my wings.

"Ottilie Summer, correct?" I looked up to see a tall woman with short stylish black hair, tan skin, and a muscular build. She was stunning and I felt the words dry up in my mouth at the sight of her.

I mutely nodded.

"I'm Selina Kyle, I run this establishment," she said, her hand gracefully coming up for me to shake. I grasped her hand and managed to choke out a,

"Nice to meet you."

_God she is beautiful. _

"I'm happy that you could come at such a short notice. I'll be sure to send a message to your manager that you're here."

"Thank you."

"I must say, it is odd how he is so vested in when you get here and when you leave."

"He's a control freak like that," I said, trying to make it sound light, but by the look on Selina's face, I felt like I wasn't very convincing.

"I see. Well, your resume is exceptional. I'm surprised you're not in college studying music."

"Thank you so much, but I can't really afford college."

"With the salary you make off of your gigs?" Selina questioned, surprise in her voice. I honestly had no idea what my Dad was charging.

"My manager is the one who sets my rates and controls my finances." Selina's eyebrows knit together.

"And at what percentage do you make from your gigs?"

_Zero_.

"I… I'm not allowed to discuss finances," I mumbled, finding it hard to keep eye contact with the woman.

"I see." She said slowly.

The bartender returned with a plate of delicious smelling wings.

"Ah, you met Selina," she said, then smirked. "Did she tell you about her boyfriend coming tonight?"

"Dinah, he's not my boyfriend. He's a business partner."

"I'm sure you do all types of business with each other."

Selina shot Dinah a look that sent shivers down my spine, but all it did to Dinah was make her roll her eyes and smile. She then turned her attention to me.

"Try the wings, I want to know how you like 'em."

I quickly did so and hummed in delight. Actual warm cooked food that did not come out of a can.

I gave her a thumbs up which made Dinah's smile grow.

"If you like that, then after you're done your gig, I can make you some chili. I got the recipe from a good friend. If you can handle the spice, it'll make your taste buds soar."

"Chili sounds fantastic, and the spicier the better. Thank you."

"I'll start prepping then."

I was surprised by how much Dinah was willing to feed me, but when thinking about it, I supposed that I looked a bit malnourished. I didn't look like a person who should be so thin. Usually most people didn't seem to notice though.

"Make sure to give her a salad too. Not all of us can live solely on protein," Selina said and Dinah laughed.

"Well of course."

"Thank you," I said softly. I wasn't expecting this sort of kindness.

"When was the last time you had a full meal?" Selina inquired.

_Weeks._

"I can't really remember," I mumbled. Dinah and Selina shared a glance, then looked to me.

"Honey," Selina started, "You ever need a meal, just come to me. I can book you to sing here more and if you want, you can tell your manager that you're learning vocal warm ups from Dinah if you need an excuse to come here."

They knew something was up and I felt warmth fill up through my chest.

"Thank you. I may take you up on your offer."

"Good." Dinah beamed. "You'll love it here."

Between the Iceberg Lounge and Selina and Dinah, I was starting to think that maybe Gotham wasn't so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

I started singing some romantic songs that I knew, keeping the mood slow and sultry, which the patrons didn't seem to mind. To my surprise, I got a handful of tips, especially when I broke out some Elton John songs.

Midway through _Your Song _was when I saw a man enter the building, and Selina greeted him, taking him by the arm. He was an older man, perhaps in his early 40s. Jet black hair, blue eyes, and a square angular build. He definitely was someone who matched Selina's looks.

I understood why Dinah joked how they were more than business partners. Their body language with each other screamed that they were intimate. Granted, he seemed stoic, but he had this sort of smile that he flashed at her, not large but genuine.

They had chemistry, not doubt about it.

I continued singing throughout the night and when I finished up, I was happy to see that the patrons seemed disappointed when I left the stage. Knowing that they enjoyed the performance was a nice ego boost.

"Ottilie, can you come here for a moment. I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Wayne." Selina waved me to where the two were sitting, and I made my way over. Selina gestured to an empty seat and I took it.

"Mr. Wayne, this is my newest vocalist, Ms. Ottilie Summer." Mr. Wayne stuck his large hand towards me and I took it and shook. His handshake certainly was firm.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Summer. You have a lovely voice."

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne."

"Selina tells me that you have an extensive resume when it comes to singing. I'm having a function in a few months and I would love to have you there."

"Thank you, but you'd have to set it up through my manager. He's the one who books my performances."

"I know, Selina already gave me his number. I just wanted to make sure it was something that you wanted to do."

I was surprised, to say the least. Nobody had ever asked what I wanted in regard to singing.

"Yes… yes I'd love to sing at your function. Thank you."

"No, thank _you_." Mr. Wayne's tone then got more curious. "Selina told me that you seem to be in the dark about how your finances operate and with how your manager needs phone calls." I could feel my face pale and my heart thud in my chest. "Does your manager treat you right? I have connections-"

"I'm sorry, but I can't discuss the relationship between my manager and I." Something similar to this situation happened in New York and at the end of the day, the people I built connections with got shot and I got a hard beating. I couldn't risk that again.

"Honey, you don't have to worry." Selina said with a calming smile.

"I'm sorry, my manager is… difficult. I am alright though." I took in a deep breath. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Wayne, I sincerely do, but I will be alright."

Mr. Wayne didn't seem convinced and I didn't feel convinced either, however I couldn't risk anyone getting hurt on behalf of me being selfish.

Mr. Wayne handed me his card.

"If you ever change your mind, just call me at this number. I will be sure to contact your father about having you sing at my function."

"Thank yo-" my breath caught in my throat and my eyes widened. _How did he know that my manager was my father?_

Before I could say anything, Mr. Wayne was throwing on his jacket.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Summer." With that, he was walking towards the door with Selina behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Dinah drove me back to the apartment. She had a motorcycle and it was a rush being on one. When she stopped at the building, she said,

"Remember, the bar is always open to you."

"Thank you." I smiled and with that, she drove off.

Dad wasn't home when I entered, most likely gambling with the money I just earned. Mom said that she thought Dad was different. That she fell in love with a different man. However, no matter how much I loved my mom, I thought that when it came to my Dad, she was blinded to who he really was from the beginning.

I collapsed back into my bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

Unfortunately, I was shaken awake by Dad.

"Wake up damn brat."

"I'm up. What is it?"

"I double booked you for today. You have a coffee shop performance at noon and then another at that iceberg place."

"What time is it now?"

"Eleven."

"Shit Dad, more heads up would've been nice." I groaned, shooting out of bed.

My hair was a mess, but no time trying to fix it. I threw it into a curly frizzy bun, hoping that it looked like I wanted it messy.

I smelt myself, figuring that I smelled fine enough.

"I just got back from last night, how was I supposed to tell ya?" Dad grumbled.

"I dunno, write it down and leave it on the counter or something. Can I have the address?"

"All yours," Dad said, handing me a piece of paper with a list of dates and times.

"Lots of people like ya. You're a big hit in Gotham."

"Good thing for you." I muttered, then headed out the door without a goodbye.

Walking quickly down the street, I was lucky that the next venue was nearby. It was a small brick coffee shop nestled in between a laundry mat and a hair salon.

When I entered I found an employee who gestured to the stage and mumbled something about how the manager would be around.

This was more my speed. Going into a low-key place treated like I was supposed to sing and nothing else. The manager saw me, giving me a polite handshake and adjusted the microphone for me. He then went off to call my Dad that I arrived, and I thought through my song list in my head. Some indie, some pop, and I'd just read the audience from there.

It went off without a hitch. Some people sat and listened happily while drinking their coffee. Some even filled a small empty cup in front of me with dollar bills.

Once I finished up, the owner said I could stay and drink some coffee before I left, and I took him up on the offer. With some of the tip that I earned, I bought myself a small coffee and a bagel.

"Hey, I uh, were you who just sang?" I turned around from where I was buying the food to see a thin boy with dark circles under his eyes and whispy black hair. He looked fragile but almost ethereal. I wouldn't be surprised if artists wanted to draw him.

"Yup, that was me."

"Your set was really interesting. You jumped around a lot with the genres, but it was really nice," he smiled but then blushed a bit. "I'm sorry, I uh, that probably sounded really strange."

"Hey, no, it's alright. You mind if I sit here?" I inquired and he gestured to the chair. "Why are you so nervous? I'm not famous or anything."

"Sorry, I'm just incredibly sleep deprived and, well, I haven't actually spoke to someone in days. I promised myself to come out to socialize. I uh, I just find it hard getting back into the swing of things."

"You should treat yourself a little better. You really just holed yourself up with no contact?"

"I mean, my… uh, Uncle was kind enough to bring me food. However, when I'm in the midst of working I get sucked in. Numbers and business meetings and so on."

"Sounds like important stuff," I said, and the young man's eyes widened for a second but then after a deep breath he said,

"Yeah, but anyway. Your music, do you just do covers of songs or have you written anything yourself?"

"I wish I could write song, but I don't think I'm that creative. I'm just good at singing other people's songs." I shrugged, then took a bite out of the bagel.

"I see. Well, I like your taste in the music that you chose. What got you into music?"

"I dunno. Always been good at it and it feels nice to make people happy just by listening to me sing," I said.

"You don't sound to enthused about it."

"I mean, it's nice, I like other things too though. I'm more than just music." It was quiet between the two of us for a moment.

"What else do you like?"

"Hm?"

"You're more than music, so what else do you like?"

"I like…" I never had this question directed at me. "I like reading. Reading plays and fantasy and comic books. Anything I can really get my hands on. I like learning about history, specifically American History, like the revolutionary war. I like reading about Lafayette and some interesting stories about the people who lived during the war. I like painting with watercolors, most galaxies where the bright colors can bleed into each other. I like animals, specifically mammals like foxes and wolves and bats. I like food, really, any food that I can get my hands on." I stopped for a moment, surprised how all of that poured out. "What about you? What do you like?"

"Eh, I'm pretty boring. I like technology and coffee and detective stories and really good movies."

"That's not very boring."

"I'm definitely the least exciting out of my siblings."

"Just because you're not exciting doesn't make you boring. Don't be so down on yourself." The young man chuckled.

"You sound like my friend Steph. I bet the two of you would get along." With that his phone jingled and he looked down.

"Ugh, work calls. Thanks for putting up with me, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too. Uh, what was your name?"

"Tim. Yours?"

"Ottilie."

"Have a good day then, Ottilie," Tim said as he made his way towards the exit.

"You too."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

After the coffee shop, I managed to stop at a thrift store and buy myself a fancier looking dress and then headed to the Ice Berge lounge early. I had no desire to go back home and figured I'd use a phone at the lounge to call my father.

I was happy to be greeted by Edmund at the door.

"You're pretty early." He said as he let me in.

"I just really didn't want to go home. Mind if I borrow your phone and call my manager that I came here early."

"I can give him a call if you don't want to talk to him." Edmund knew by the look on my face that my father was the last person I wanted to hear from.

"That would be fantastic, thank you."

"Feel free to head to the stage and prep for your performance. Do you want anything? A water bottle? Some fruit?" I was lucky that Edmund was so kind.

"That would be great, thank you," I smiled.

Edmund pulled out his phone and dialed a number, most likely my Dad's, then left the room. I fiddled with the stage, nothing much needing to be changed. The piano was in key, the microphone was live, and the stand was at my height.

I then fiddled with my thrift store dress. It hung off my frame a bit, clearly a little large for me. It was slightly too long as well and draped onto the ground, covering my black flats. It did look elegant though. a dark navy blue with some shimmer to it. Most likely for some one's school formal dance. Not prom, but still something nice. It's a shame that my hair was a mess.

"Got you some watermelon and apples," Edmund said, entering the room again.

"Thank you, did my manager sound alright?"

"Honestly he sounded grouchy, but he didn't seem to put up too much of a fit."

"Well, that's good I guess."

Edmund placed the fruit platter onto the stage and then sat at the edge.

"Is everything okay? I mean, between you and your manager?" His eyes looked into mine, as if trying to hypnotize me into telling him the truth.

I let out a long sigh as I sat next to him.

"Not really, but that's all I can really get into," I said. I trembled thinking of my friends that were killed in New York. The people who wanted to help me and paid for it with their lives.

"So, you're in trouble?"

"Nothing I can't handle," I said giving him a smile. "Thank you for asking though."

Edmund didn't seem fooled by my smile.

"If there's anything I can do to help, let me know." I knew that there wasn't. Even if there was, I didn't want to take that risk with his life.

"Will do," I grinned with a nod.

We moved onto lighter conversation. Just some small talk as I ate the apple slices and watermelon. In no time it was my time to start performing.

I went through the motions. Part of me felt like I should try expanding my music more. It was starting to get boring, which I hated. I didn't like it all that much, but part of me wished I had the voice to do scream-o. Not many venues would want it, but it would be something new and probably fun to learn.

I finished my set and was once again allowed to have a few drinks before leaving, which I took advantage of. Once again, Edmund was called off to tend to something, and I was left to drink alone.

"I think I missed you perform again." I turned around in my seat at the bar to see Jason.

"Sounds like you have poor timing," I said with a smirk.

"Suppose so." He shrugged and took a seat next to me, ordering some whisky.

"You know, I heard that you were trouble," I said, which made Jason chuckle.

"Only a healthy dose," he smirked. He then looked at my dress. Not in one of those leering types of way. His eyes were just on the fabric, looking a little confused.

"You know, I know a tailor if you want her information. That dress seems a bit big on you, no offense."

I looked down at my dress, noting that when sitting it was even more obvious how large it was.

"No offense taken. Thank you for the offer, but I can't afford a tailor. I'll just make some altercations when I get back home," I said. I already had some needle and thread so it would be cheaper. Jason shot me a look, then pulled out his wallet and stuffed several bills into my hand.

"Get your dress tailored then something else for yourself." I looked down to see that he had crumpled several 100-dollar bills into my hands. My mouth almost dropped at the site and my eyes shot up to look at his face. He looked dead serious about this.

"Jason, I can't accept this."

"Yes, you can. Now-" Jason paused as his eyes went to look out into the crowd. "Never mind. I have to go. See you around, Ottilie." With that, Jason eased himself into the crowd and toward an exit.

I was curious about what Jason had done to make him get on Mr. Cobblepot's bad side, but I figured it was probably better that I didn't know. I stuffed the money he gave me into my bra, and then took another sip of my drink.

What did a guy like him do that made handing out hundreds so easy?

"Ms. Summer?" I turned to see Edmund. "Are you ready for me to take you back to your apartment."

I stood to my feet nodding.

"Yes, please."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The several weeks that followed proved to be prosperous for me. Or rather, my father was prospering off of my performances. I continued singing all over Gotham and became a regular at the Iceberg Lounge and at Selina's bar. I did get my dress hemmed and then was able to buy some food with the leftover money.

However, it turned out that I might have made my Dad too prosperous.

I was briskly walking back to the apartment from a coffee shop performance. Edmund would be picking me up in several minutes, but I still needed to change into my nicer dress.

When I arrived, I was stunned to see an impressive looking black car parked in front of the apartment. This was nicer car than even Edmund's, and it made me wonder what such a nice car was doing parked in this neighborhood.

I pushed the car out of my mind, remembering I had to quickly get ready since Edmund was sure to be there to pick me up at any minute.

I walked up the stairs and swung the door open to see two men… well, a man and a young teenager, standing in the living room, holding my Dad down.

He was bleeding from his nose, eyes wide in panic.

"Wha-"

"Don't move!" the teen had a gun pointed at me, and I raised my hands in the air.

"That's her! That's my daughter!" My Dad exclaimed as the man continued holding him down. "She's all yours! Now let me go!"

My eyes widened. I knew if the going got tough my Dad wouldn't hesitate to use me as a bartering chip. Still, part of me still held out that Dad might deep down care about me. Surprise, I was wrong.

The man holding down my Dad stood, bringing him up as well. He threw my dad onto a chair in the living room.

"Stay there and don't move." He walked over to me, grabbing my arm.

"Where's your room? I'm going to supervise you as you pack your bags," he stated. I stared at him in fear but knew I didn't have any other choice.

"Damian, while she's packing get Bossman on the phone so that he can have a chat with Mr. Summer," he said to the younger teen.

Holding onto my arm, I led him to my room, where he watched me grab my suitcase and start packing. I could feel my hands trembling. I was trying not to let it show, but I was terrified. I couldn't do anything. I had no weapons to attack the man with. No swift movement where I could swiftly jump out my window and run away. I was at a complete loss.

I was also confused why he was even having me pack. I didn't know what was going to happen to me, however I was almost positive that most kidnapped girls weren't allowed to keep personal items.

However, I kept packing. It didn't take long since I didn't own many things in the first place.

"Your father owes us a lot of money from gambling." The man said. He seemed like he was trying to explain the situation. It made sense. I was making a lot of money so Dad was getting gutsy with his betting. He went over his head and now I was paying for it.

"I'm packed," I stated to the man.

"You sure you have everything?" he questioned, and I nodded.

"Okay. We are going to head to my car. Please don't scream or make this situation more difficult than it has to be."

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I fought them back and nodded. As I walked out of my room with my bag, the teen that the man referred to as Damian said,

"The boss is coming to talk to this scum personally. I'll wait here with him while you take the girl back."

I made eye contact with my Dad, and I saw him smirk. He would get a reprimanding from whoever he was indebted to, and all the while I was being taken most likely for a horrible fate. By using me, he continued to further himself. As always, I was nothing but a tool to him.

I felt the hatred rise up in my stomach, and I tore away from the man's grasp. I sprinted towards my Dad and punched him in the face as hard as I could.

I didn't hold back. I punched him again and again while he grunted in pain until I was pulled away by the man.

Dad was badly bruised from my attack and shot me a glare.

"Brat. I hope you felt good doing that because that'll probably be the last time you ever feel some sort of joy," He spat.

"You think I was happy even before this all happened?" I laughed a bit despite feeling the tears welling up in my eyes. "I hate you! I hope you drown in your own vomit!"

"Let's go." The man stated, tugging my arm towards the door. "He's not worth your time."

I followed the man out of the apartment, the door closing while Dad looked smug.

Once we reached the front of the apartment, I saw Edmund. He stared at me, then at the man holding me.

"Grayson, what do you think you're doing?" he questioned.

"Stay out of this," the man holding my arm stated.

"My boss happens to employ that girl. It is my business, and I _will _tell him about it." Edmunds voice had a threatening edge, but the grip on my arm from the man didn't waver.

"Tell him whatever you want. Her father owes us money, and he offered her up as payment."

Edmunds eyes widened.

"Dick, that's-"

"I know what I'm doing, Edmund. This girl is now property of the Wayne Family." With that, the man shoved me into the nice-looking car from earlier and jumped into the driver's seat.

We sped off in the car, and I looked down at my shaking hands.

_I wish I punched him more. I wish I could punch him harder. _I thought. Meanwhile I could hear the man cursing under his breath as he drove.

Several minutes passed in silence until he decided to break it.

"So, uh, what's your name?"

"Ottilie," I whispered.

"That's a pretty name. Mine's Dick," he said. I looked over at him and he chuckled awkwardly.

"Seriously, I know you might want to call me a Dick after all that happened, but Dick is my actual name."

"Well… that's convenient," I said in a small voice.

"Hey, you're going to be okay, just so you know. We won't hurt you. There's some complications that we have to work through now, but you'll be okay."

I didn't believe him. Why would I?

Dad sold me to, from what I could gather, was the mob and I never heard of the mob treating anyone with much kindness.

I didn't respond to Dick. I held back my tears and instead tried to focus on something else. I focused on how I was going to escape.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

To my surprise, Dick brought me to a large mansion. It looked gothic in style and reminded me more like a castle you would see out of a fairy tale. Once the car was parked, he led me to the large front door, where we were greeted by a what I could only describe as a butler. He was an older gentleman, wearing a fancy suit, but he had a kind face.

"Hello Master Richard. Who might this young woman be?"

"Hey Alfred, this is Ottilie Summer." He then turned to me. "Ottilie this is Alfred."

"A pleasure to meet you Ms. Summer," the older gentleman smiled. I wasn't expecting such a warm greeting.

"Alfred, can you show Ottilie to a spare room? She'll be spending the night here, and I need to work on some things."

"Of course, Master Richard."

With that, Dick left, and Alfred gestured for me to follow him. I followed behind the old man up the stairs of the ornate house. After some twists and turns, Alfred brought me to a room.

He opened the door and my eyes widened at the site of a beautiful room with a large bed and a graceful balcony window.

"I will let you settle in, then," stated Alfred. "Give me a call if you need anything. I will be up to retrieve you once the master gets back." Alfred then left, leaving me to my own devices in the room.

My eyes scanned around my new environment. It was bare other than the bed. I walked over to the window and it opened easily. I was up on a second floor, high above the ground of the grass in what looked like a backyard. The backyard then backed up to what looked like a cliff, with the ocean below. It was a breathtaking sight.

_Beautiful sight, but I won't be here for long. _

I took out the photo of my mother and pocketed it. I then stripped the bed, finding multiple sheets.

I quickly tied them together as tight as I could and then tied the sheets to the pole of the bed.

I never would have guessed that I would be using some sheets to escape a castle-like building like something out of a fairy tale.

My plan was simple. I figured that once I reached the ground, I'd sprint back to the city and try to find Selina or Edmund. Either of them was bound to help me.

I gripped tightly onto the sheets as I started to scale down the tall building. One foot after the other foot after the other. I wasn't graceful but it was working.

However, I then felt a tear in the sheet.

_Oh no. _

I quickly tried to go down my makeshift rope faster, however with one final rip, I was hurdling to the ground. I tried grabbing for something, but the textured cement wall just scrapped across my arms, drawing blood.

I braced myself for impact and with a thud, I was on the ground. A sharp pain shot up my body, specifically my left arm.

It hurt, but I tried to pull myself up. It was proving difficult. I tried moving my left arm, but it was limp.

_Well, this didn't go as planned. _I dragged my body across the ground with my right arm. I felt so dizzy. My body ached with every movement and my vision began to go black.

_No. I must keep going. I can't black out._

"Jesus Christ! Ottilie?" I heard a voice exclaim. I felt a pair of hands lifting me up. Filling my darkening vision was a familiar face.

_Jason? _I thought in shock however before I could get a better look, I passed out.

I woke up enveloped in warm soft blankets. At first, I thought it was some sort of dream. Me? Wrapped up in blankets warm and comfortable? That never happened.

However, when I tried to move, I felt pain shoot up my arm. My eyesight adjusted and I noticed how I was bandaged, and my arm was put in a sling.

I was back in the room that I had tried to escape from. However, this time I noticed a lock on the window.

"Ottilie? Are you awake?" I looked over and sitting next to the bed was Jason.

"Jason?" I questioned, quickly sitting up. I immediately felt dizzy.

"Whoa, slow down. You banged yourself up pretty bad."

"Well I was trying to escape. What are you doing here anyway?" Jason chuckled, shaking his head.

"I live here, and why were you trying to escape? Dick said that we weren't going to hurt you, right?"

"I didn't know Dick, so how was I supposed to trust him? He took me as payment for my Dad's debts. Why should I have trusted someone like that? Speaking of, why should I even trust you?"

Jason looked at me evenly.

"Dick did a shit job of explaining things, still, I'll admit that you have no reason to trust me. I'm just the guy who you've casually drank with and who has given some hundred dollars."

He wasn't saying anything sarcastically, however I felt like he was hurt that I didn't trust him. I didn't consider myself having many friends, but I did feel like I owed Jason. For the company, and for the money.

"I suppose that I can trust you… but just a little bit." Jason smiled at that.

"Okay, I appreciate your little bit of trust."

"What did you mean why you said that Dick was shit at explaining things?"

"Well, my family isn't the type to use people as currency. Usually whenever someone tries to pay off their debt with a person, we accept the person and then expect the individual to pay up anyway. Usually we give the person used as currency some money and let them live their life." Jason then let out a sigh. "Unfortunately, you are a different case."

I felt my body stiffen at that.

"How so?"

"Edmund saw Dick taking you," Jason sighed. "Unfortunately, he's bound to tell Cobblepot, who is a rival mob boss. Granted, we are in a tentative peace time, but we can't have them think that we are weaker. We need to keep you around to prove that we aren't going soft. We put a lot into our image," Jason explained.

"So… what's going to happen now?" I didn't like that they were deciding not to just let me go because of some sort of mob image thing, but I still wanted to trust Jason that I wasn't going to be hurt.

"I'll let my boss explain. He's been formulating a plan since Dick explained things and Alfred bandaged you up. I don't even know the full plan yet, but I assure you, he wouldn't want to make your life difficult."

I slowly nodded, then looked down at my hands. They were bandaged too, most likely scratched up from me trying to grab at the wall.

"When Alfred was examining you, he found this in your pocket," Jason said, holding up a piece of paper. It was the picture of my mom.

"Please, can you give it back," I spoke quietly. I just wanted to see her face. He handed me the photo and I looked down at her, a small smile forming on my face.

"Who is she?"

"My mom," I said softly. "She was an amazing woman."

"I bet." Ho nodded. "If you want, I can get my boss now, to further explain things."

Clutching the photograph close to me, I nodded.

Jason stood and went downstairs to retrieve his boss. All the while I looked down at my mom who was looking right back at me.

_Mom, did you expect my life to be anything like this? _

I then heard footsteps and soon enough, Jason was leading a large man into the room. My eyes widened in shock when I saw his face.

"Mr. Wayne?"


End file.
